


Just a Theory

by imadra_blue



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Canon - Video Game, Humor, Intoxication, M/M, Magic Made Them Do It, Sexy Kiss, Unresolved Sexual Tension, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-25
Updated: 2014-11-25
Packaged: 2018-02-26 23:51:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2671016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imadra_blue/pseuds/imadra_blue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anders becomes dangerously drunk on a bad lyrium potion, and only Fenris's touch keeps him stable.  It also produces an unexpected side-effect that drives Fenris crazy (in more ways than one).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just a Theory

**Author's Note:**

  * For [immortalbears](https://archiveofourown.org/users/immortalbears/gifts).



> Written for a tumblr prompt by realfenris: "Fenris somehow finds himself looking after Anders when he's inebriated. He doesn't take advantage of Anders even though Anders wanted it. The next day, Anders remembers everything and comes back to muak Fenris =3=!!"
> 
> (Not sure if this is exactly what you wanted, but I discovered I have a thing for passionate kisses at the door of Fenris's mansion. >.>)
> 
> Set after the Legacy DLC, at the beginning of Act 2.

As Fenris checked the corpses of the bandits they had just fought off, Anders started to glow. Anders staggered, gasping, glowing blue cracks appearing across his bodies as if he were breaking apart. Sebastian, who had lingered in the back to examine a necklace in the dying sunlight, grabbed him first. The necklace fell to the dirt as Sebastian held him fast around the waist. Anders started screaming, lightning crackling from his fingertips. Sebastian let him go instantly, falling to the dirt to avoid being struck by the spell.

"A little help, if you please," Sebastian called, scrambling back.

Fenris took a step forward, but he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end the moment he did so. The cold feeling of the Fade froze him in place, but Hawke moved past him, holding her staff forward. Her dark hair swept back as if a breeze had caught it. Her hands glowed, but within a moment she flew back in a graceless heap, her eyes wide. Anders fell to his knees. A guttural moaning sound escaped his lips.

The sight of even Hawke spilled out upon her ass drew Fenris forward. He swallowed hard, ignoring the chill of the Fade. He held his hands out before him warily, moving his bare feet out of the path of the lightning racing across the ground from Anders's glowing hands.

"Anders!" Fenris cried. "Get a hold of yourself!"

Anders looked up as the lightning continued to crackle unchecked from his glowing hands. Fenris took a step back to avoid it, still holding his hands before him. Anders lurched forward and grabbed a hold of his wrist, bringing them both down, tumbling into the dirt. Fenris braced himself to be fried alive, but instead the energy that passed through him felt like a warm bath, somehow relieving all the tension in his body. His markings lit up though he was not using his abilities, and the usual ache caused by his lyrium entirely disappeared. Anders clutched at him, his own glow ceased, but his face flushed and his eyes as glassy as if he had drunk an entire bottle of wine. He drew a ragged breath but said nothing.

"Maker's breath," Hawke swore, approaching again, dirt smudged across her umber face. "He had just drank a lyrium potion at the end of the fight with those damn bandits. What the hell was in it?" She cast her gaze about, presumably for the empty bottle.

"Nothing good. What a surprise," Fenris said, trying to pull himself free of Anders's grasp. The strange warmth of Anders's touch left him uncomfortable.

Sebastian also approached, holding up the empty bottle. It had cracked, and only a few drops of the glowing blue liquid had been left. "I think this needs to be examined by an expert. There's no telling what it triggered. His magic? His taint? His abomination?"

Fenris extricated himself from Anders's grip, but Anders began to glow again, magic crackling around his fingers. The moment he grabbed Anders's wrist, the glow stopped. Fenris let go. It began again. Fenris clutched Anders's wrist, watching the glow fade on Anders and spark to life on him instead.

"Well, I never thought I would find myself saying this, and I'm sorry that I have to, but could you please continue touching Anders?" Sebastian asked, blinking.

Hawke frowned and took the empty flask from Sebastian. "This is definitely causing some reaction from either Justice or his magic. The lyrium in your body is clearly responding to him. I doubt the taint would have anything to do with that."

Fenris scowled, catching Anders's other hand as he reached for him. "How long is this going to last?"

"No idea." Hawke crouched down and peered into Anders's face. He didn't even blink in her direction. "Anders?" she asked. He didn't respond, and when she tried to touch his face, he jerked away so violently that he nearly sent Fenris tumbling into the dirt with him again.

"Can you carry him?" Hawke asked. "He's clearly not in his right mind and dangerous to others."

"He's always like that, and I never had to carry him before," Fenris snapped.

Hawke gave Fenris the same sort of look Fenris associated more with a dragon and less a human. He sighed and lifted Anders up and dumped him over his shoulder. The weight of a human, even one larger than him, was nothing to Fenris. But it was a bit awkward, given that Anders was several inches taller than he. Anders gave a small, almost scandalous moan, but put up no protests. If there was one thing that Fenris could be grateful for about this situation, it was that Anders apparently could no longer speak. One of Sebastian's eyebrows crawled up his forehead at the sound Anders made until Fenris glared at him.

"We're still a day out from Kirkwall, and obviously I don't have any suppliers that can investigate this for me right now," Hawke said, eyeing both Anders and Fenris warily. "Since it's already late, why don't we just make camp and hope that Anders can sleep this off? When we get home, I'll have someone look into the potion. I think this is one of the ones we found in the Deep Roads. I've one from there, too. And don't worry, I'm not drinking it. I'll send it in to be examined, too."

Fenris turned his glare upon her. "How nice. And in the meantime, what am I supposed to do? Carry him everywhere like some sort of malignant mage tumor?"

"Well, yes. Unless you want him to fry us all with his magic?"

"I wonder if the disadvantages of our deaths outweigh the disadvantages of having to be in constant physical contact with him."

"Ha ha, hilarious. Let's find a good place to make camp." Hawke turned away, casting a wary glance back at them, her knuckles white around her staff.

"I wasn't joking," Fenris complained, rolling his shoulder to discourage Anders's wandering hands. He followed Hawke, irritated most of all by the pleasant sensation produced by touching and being touched by Anders.

…

While Fenris was spared the chore of having to set up camp, he found it more burdensome to sit beside Anders, hand on his chest to pin him down as much as touch him. By the time the camp stew finished cooking, Anders recovered his ability to speak, though lost it if Fenris lifted his hand. Unfortunately, he also lost control of his magic without Fenris's touch, so Fenris remained at Anders's side, trying to eat his stew with one hand.

"Why're you holding me down?" Anders asked, slurring. It was the first thing he had uttered that made any sense since his strange reaction to the lyrium potion.

"So you don't go mad and kill us all with magic."

"I'm not mad." Anders abruptly sat up, lurching as he did so. Fenris's hand slid off for a moment, the glow shifting back to Anders, before he grabbed him by the arm.

"Stay still!" Fenris ordered.

Anders didn't seem to hear him. Instead he lurched for the pot of stew bubbling on the fire with his bare hand. "I'm hungry," he slurred.

Fenris yanked Anders back just before his hand entered the fire. "Have you gone madder than usual, mage? That's a fire."

"Yes, it is. You're right." Anders stared at the fire, now still. It was the first time Fenris ever recalled Anders agreeing with him. Fenris found no satisfaction in it. After all, even a mage as arrogant and blind as Anders should be able to agree that fire was, in fact, a fire.

Sebastian glanced over at them. "Everything all right? I can tie him up if you like."

Fenris blanched at the suggestion. The very thought of being tied up made Fenris sick to his stomach as he thought of days not so long past when any mage could do as they pleased with him. He turned his mind from those dark memories and focused on the situation on hand. He loathed Anders, but not even Anders deserved such indignity. "No, thank you, it's fine. But he wants food, and my hands are full."

Hawke filled a bowl with stew. She sat next to Anders and began to spoon feed him while Fenris kept a grip on his arm. Anders stared at her blankly, occasionally forgetting to open his mouth. Hawke scowled. "I am reminded of why I have less than zero desire to produce children."

"Children at least have some wits about them. He's acting like he's drunk."

"Justice doesn't let me get drunk," Anders commented, drooling a little.

"Drunk on bad lyrium." Hawke sounded thoughtful. "Maybe that's what it is. He is possessed by a Fade spirit, after all. What would bad lyrium or the wrong concentration of lyrium do to Justice?"

"Pity it's not a spirit of Wisdom. If anyone needed it…."

Hawke smiled. "Well, we disagree on a lot, Fenris, but we can agree that Anders would most definitely have benefited more from a spirit of Wisdom." She shook her head and spooned more stew into Anders's waiting mouth. "Will you be all right to share a tent with him tonight?"

"What?" Fenris blinked. "Share a tent? With him?"

"Well, you can do amazing things, Fenris. Perhaps you know of a way to remain in contact with Anders from your own tent? Otherwise I'm not certain how we can avoid him losing control of his magic overnight."

"I have a tent," Anders observed with his mouth full of stew, sounding as if he were imparting sage advice on wound aftercare. Somehow, he didn't dribble.

Fenris glared at Hawke. "If I ever needed more proof the Maker hates me, personally, this would be it."

"The Maker doesn't—" Sebastian began. He cut himself off once Fenris turned his glare on him. "Ah. Never mind."

"Fine," Fenris growled at Hawke. "But only because I'm not going to let a mage destroy everyone with his magic, despite how much I would enjoy telling everyone 'I told you so' after we're dead."

Hawke smiled a little and stood up. "You're a real sweetheart, Fenris."

…

Touching Anders for so long left Fenris feeling as if his body were humming. His usual ache had been replaced by the sort of warm thrill he normally associated with having his back or shoulders rubbed. It annoyed him that sleeping next to Anders, hand on Anders's back, produced the feeling. Anders represented the sort of blind outlook that led to mages abusing their powers. Not that Anders cared. He only cared about the plight of the mages, no one else. How he could sleep was—

Fenris realized Anders wasn't asleep. Instead, Anders had rolled over and his hands were wandering over Fenris's shoulders and chest, adding to the pleasant sensation. His mouth wandered dangerously close to Fenris's before Fenris shoved him away. Anders started to glow until Fenris put a foot on Anders's leg.

"What do you think you're doing, mage?" Fenris demanded, sitting up.

"It feels good. Don't you feel it?" Anders asked, his eyes still dull and his voice oddly pitched. He reached for Fenris again, but Fenris grabbed his wrist and held it away.

"You don't like me anymore than I like you. You're—you're intoxicated. Get a hold of yourself."

Anders moved closer, then paused, something flickering his eyes. "But I—"

"Go to sleep. Just lie down, back to me, and sleep. Maybe when you'll wake up you'll recover what few wits you once possessed."

Anders wrenched his wrist free, looking almost sullen. He ran a finger over Fenris's glowing chin, then did as Fenris told him for the first time since they're meeting.

Fenris sighed and laid down as well, back to Anders, bare foot pressed to Anders's leg, relieved as much by Anders's acquiescence as he was surprised that he had been tempted by Anders's sudden interest.

…

At dawn, Fenris awoke inside his tent alone. When he peered outside, Anders sat with his back to Fenris, stoking by the campfire. He no longer glowed and didn't seem in any more danger of killing them all with magic than he usually did, so Fenris left him be. Anders avoided looking at him, his expression dark, suggesting he recalled at least a little of his episode the night before. He didn't answer any of the questions Hawke asked when she woke. When Sebastian suggested the Circle would be a good place to help Anders control his magic, the expression on Anders's face caused Sebastian to hurry off and pack up his tent.

Anders lingered at the back of their party as they headed back to Kirkwall. Fenris kept close to Hawke in the front, not anymore eager to speak of what had happened the night before than Anders himself. Once they entered Kirkwall, Fenris took his leave to head back to his mansion and bathe. He hoped he could wash away the irritatingly pleasant memory of Anders's touch.

Just as he sat back to soak, he heard a knock at the door. It was too late at night to be tax collectors and too early for his drunk neighbors to confuse the mansion for their own. Fenris hastily dried, dressed, and grabbed his weapon. When he opened the door, he found Anders staring back at him.

"Do you always answer your door with a sword in your hand?" Anders asked, blinking.

"Yes. Do you somehow think this unwise, mage?"

"No, I suppose it's quite practical." Anders sighed and stared off at some point over Fenris's shoulder. He seemed oddly demure, perhaps because he was freshly shaved and better groomed than usual. Or perhaps because his face lacked its usual open hostility. "I came to tell you that the lyrium potion, likely due to having been in the Deep Roads so long, had an over-concentrated amount of lyrium in it, which interacted badly with my… condition."

"You mean your abomination."

A more familiar expression came across Anders's face as he scowled. "Should I summon the templars to your door so you don't have to speak so loudly?"

"No need. Drink another potion like that, and I'm sure the templars will find you well enough without any help."

Anders sucked in a breath, then exhaled it. He glared at Fenris. "You're not making this any easier. I just came to say 'thank you.' For taking care of me while I was ill."

"'Ill'? Is that what you're calling it?" Fenris shrugged. "In any case, you're welcome. Don't do it again."

Anders glared. "It's like you're physically incapable of saying anything truly nice."

"I am perfectly capable of being nice, mage."

"Really. When? Where? To who?"

"When you're not around, wherever you're not, and to people who aren't you."

Anders stared at him blank-faced, and then he suddenly grinned, an expression Fenris was not accustomed to having directed his way. "When I stop taking it personally, you're almost funny, Fenris." The grin faded. "But you haven't taken the opportunity to mock me for last night, and you didn't allow me to fully humiliate myself. That's something."

"Don't read too much into it."

"Maybe I'll read too much into something else, then." Anders leaned forward and pulled Fenris to him, kissing him as swiftly as a cutpurse in a crowded marketplace. He brought the scent of sandalwood with him. The warm feel of his touch was muted in comparison to the night before, but still effective. It raced along Fenris's body, stealing his body aches and replacing them with a welcome tingle of pleasure. Fenris found himself kissing back, clutching Anders's feather-lined coat with both hands, his sword clattering to the floor. Warmth grew into heat, and Fenris couldn't explain what overcame him. He had never touched Anders before the lyrium potion incident. He had never known it would always feel like that.

Anders pulled back, stepping through the door, breathing heavily, his eyes dark, his face flushed. "So you do feel it, too. Interesting."

Fenris swallowed, trying to compose himself. He also took a step backward. "Why did you do that?"

"Just testing a theory." Anders smirked and then retreated, turning and heading down the darkened Hightown street.

Fenris licked the taste of Anders off his lips and watched him go, wondering exactly what the theory was.


End file.
